


He Likes You

by blueberrytea



Series: Moments [5]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M, Worried Newt, comforting awkward thomas, in which people jump to conclusions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-05-04 19:24:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5345765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueberrytea/pseuds/blueberrytea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5. <em>He bit into an apple, then plopped on the ground beside Chuck. Newt was there, too, but sat alone, ignoring everybody. His eyes were bloodshot, his forehead creased with heavy lines. Thomas watched as Newt chewed his fingernails, something he hadn’t seen the older boy do before. </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	He Likes You

**Author's Note:**

> whoa what two in one day whoa man
> 
> (p.s. I guess I lied about this one being longer)  
> (Slightly longer? Eh?)  
> (p.s.s. I'm going to try and answer your comments sometimes because I feel like a terrible person)

5\. _He bit into an apple, then plopped on the ground beside Chuck. Newt was there, too, but sat alone, ignoring everybody. His eyes were bloodshot, his forehead creased with heavy lines. Thomas watched as Newt chewed his fingernails, something he hadn’t seen the older boy do before._

 

            Chuck kept giving Thomas sidelong glances Thomas caught from the corner of his eye, glances that were becoming increasingly annoying.

            “What?” Thomas finally whispered harshly to the boy next to him. Chuck nodded jerkily in Newt’s direction.

            “Talk to him,” The curly-haired boy whispered back. “He likes you.”

            Thomas swallowed. It was a good, warm feeling, being told someone liked him. But he wasn’t sure if the statement was necessarily true.

            “I don’t know." Thomas said dumbly, trying to fight off a smile at the thought of Newt favoring him. "He seems like he wants to be left alone.” He snuck a look at the boy sitting across the kitchen. He seemed to be in his own world.

            “Come on, Thomas. Don’t act like you two don’t have a little thing goin’ on.” Chuck gave him a playful nudge, but his voice was too loud. Thomas’s blush raged.

            “Shut up!” Thomas pushed him back.

            “I can hear every bloody word you’re saying, shanks,” Newt deadpanned from the other side of the room. Chuck giggled. Thomas was too flustered to do anything.

            “Well, maybe if you weren’t lurking over there looking like you’ve just pulled an all-nighter we wouldn’t be talking about ya,” Chuck said.

            “Watch your mouth, Chuckie. I’m going on two.” Newt went back to absently gnawing on his fingernails, which, from what Thomas could see, were close to bleeding. Chuck still seemed moderately cheerful. Thomas wondered how.

            “Why don’t you go get something to eat,” Thomas muttered to Chuck. Chuck winked at him, stood and went over to the fridge. Thomas got on his feet and crossed to where Newt was sitting.

            “You don’t have to ‘talk’ to me.” Newt sounded defeated, the words tumbling quietly out of his mouth.

            “What if I want to?”

            Newt's expression turned to annoyance.

            “Now is not the time, Tommy. I’m not exactly in the mood.”

            “No, I—I wasn’t trying to—” Thomas tripped over his speech, taking a steady breath to level himself. “It's not like what Chuck said. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

            “In all honesty?" Newt shook his head. "Nothing is okay.” The boy’s long fingers trailed through his hair, which looked like it could use a wash.

            Thomas wanted to know what it felt like against his own skin.

            “There’s the girl," Newt continued, "the note…Something's happening. Something not very good. And that’s not even the half of it.”

            “What else is there?”

            Newt sucked in a breath, a prick of red welling up from the abused cuticle of his pointer finger. He wiped it away, exhaled.

            “Minho and Alby aren’t back yet.”

            Thomas took a moment. He’d completely forgotten that the two had gone out into the Maze to investigate the dead Griever. He glanced up toward the sun, which was steadily moving down to the walls of the Glade. An icy feeling bloomed in his core and suddenly he understood Newt’s distress.

            Thomas wanted to comfort Newt but had a sudden loss of words. He opened his mouth dumbly a couple of times, and then gave up.

            “You don’t have to say anything,” Newt murmured. “I already told you that.”

            “Do you want to wait for them?”

            Newt met Thomas’s eyes, open surprise on his features. Thomas cleared his throat and continued.

           “Like, by the doors? That way you’d be right there when they come back.” Newt almost looked like he wanted to utter the words they both feared, but Thomas spoke again before he could. “They will come back,” he assured the other boy. “You know they will.”

            Newt let out a shaky breath, then gave Thomas a small nod.

            “Alright,” he replied softly. He looked into Thomas’s eyes once, an almost thank-you, and then stood. Thomas followed suit. They walked out of the kitchen and made their way down to the doors.

            Somewhere along the way Thomas realized Newt had taken his hand.


End file.
